


pleasured exhalation

by sassymordechais (archiveofwebs)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Elias being horny because of power, M/M, Needy Elias, No actual JonElias touching this is just Elias getting touchy with himself, Season 5 Spoilers, hinted petermartin, previously established jonelias, sensual touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23981164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archiveofwebs/pseuds/sassymordechais
Summary: As his hand, with a mind of a hungry Heart, so desperate for love from the one being made for it, trailed sensually down his body, Elias felt his eyes close shut, giving in to what he wanted, scattered mind, body whole.-Elias, alone, yearns.The Heart, needy, wants.As one, they feel.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims, The Heart/The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	pleasured exhalation

**Author's Note:**

> Here I was, minding my own business working on a prompt list, when suddenly Jon's line from 165 decides to slap me in the face.
> 
> I have zero regrets because it's Elias and he's just horny for all things Archivist.
> 
> Don’t at me for the title. It’s there for a reason

_‘Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing.’_

The words rang in his head like a bell, Jon’s voice echoing in his head like a siren’s call. Hands shaking he collapsed to his knees. He could barely catch his breath, chest heaving. In his mind, the Heart crooned out in delight, the sensations matched with the power in Jon’s voice curling his toes.

He pants on the cool tile of the Panopticon guard tower, body alight with heat, mind drowning in pleasure. 

There are too many inputs entering his system, hands racing to unbutton his suit, to get him out of the wretched thing.

_The Eye was howling, pleased to put others in their place, eager to know what made the NotThem tick. Eager for revenge._

_The Heart was groaning, twisting moans and sighs into calls, eager for The Archivist to hear it. The Heart lived to serve The Archivist and right now, at the feel of it’s peaked power, it was nothing but helpless. Eager to please. Wanting._

_Wanting._

_Wanting._

_Please._

“Please…”

Jonah Magnus, high strung with pleasure, keened into the large room around him as he struggled to free himself from his clothes. His thoughts were too scattered, lost in the words of his beloved Archivist.

They weren’t even his anymore, too merged with those of the Heart for him to figure out who was thinking what. 

_Beautiful._

_Powerful._

_Ours._

_Archivist._

_Ours._

_Soon._

_Come to us._

_Return to us._

_Let us feed you, take care of you._

_We were made for you._

_Archivist._

_Jon._

Crying out, Elias found himself rolling onto his back, spine arching away from the cold tile. His jacket and shirt had finally been removed and pushed away, his slacks unbuttoned and shimmied down his legs. 

_How would you want us, Archivist? How would you want us to be the most of use to you? Is this pleasing to you?_

_My dearest Jon, let me be whatever you want. Let me be by your side, let me love you._

In the recesses of his mind, he hoped that Jon wouldn’t be able to hear him, see him, feel him. He had his own things to worry about, things to Know. He needed Jon to return to him in one piece. 

He knows that Martin will keep him safe. Peter made him that way, turning him towards the Forsaken. (Their blossoming emotions didn’t matter to him, they could do whatever they wanted. All he needed was another guard for Jon. One Assistant not so easily swayed away.)

In these recesses, Jon’s heartbeat echoes with his footsteps, each step and beat getting just a little bit louder as Jon gets closer. 

Closer to the Panopticon. 

Closer to the Archives. 

Closer to his throne. 

Closer to his home. 

Closer to him. 

_Closer to his Heart._

As his hand, with a mind of a hungry Heart, so desperate for love from the one being made for it, trailed sensually down his body, Elias felt his eyes close shut, giving in to what he wanted, scattered mind, body whole. 

(He still keeps his Eyes on Jon, alight with power and hidden excitement. Brimming with It Knows You.)

In these moments, he doesn’t think of a face. He doesn’t think of skin color or hair color or details. They mean nothing to him. 

(Jon has scar marked skin, messy hair, tired eyes. He has glasses that Elias doesn’t know whether they are real or fake with chains that came from archivists prior. His sweaters are too big or too small, shirts always wrinkled. He cares not for high fashion or accessories, unless Elias puts them on him. To Elias, he’s Jon, he’s perfect. He’s what Jonah has been waiting for for a long time.)

(The Archivist is eyes. Eyes of all sizes, shapes, colors. Some see, some hear, some don’t do either. It is statements and notes, books and archives. It holds many forms, many features. It listens to none but will yield to The Heart. To The Heart, It is perfect. The Heart was made for The Archivist, and cares for It so.)

Manicured fingers trail slowly down the line of his throat, decorated with a thin beige ribbon, the only unmatched item of his previous ensemble. It slows for a moment over the charm that dangles from it, the metal a cool spot on the hollow of his throat. 

_A sheaf of paper. Engraved in tiny letters: STATEMENT._

His fingers curl around the small charm, index finger moving to run under the thick ribbon. 

_Wouldn’t it be nice to feel their skin on yours? Their fingers on your throat. Your voice belongs to them._

His fingers leave his throat, trailing down his chest. His hand pauses over his heart, the other one joining as they splay over it. He feels his heart beat and Knows it’s in time with Jon’s. 

_This is truly the only thing I can offer him. I won’t be that person. I will be whatever he wants. I will give him whatever he asks for and nothing more. These moments, these blissed filled moments will be mine to cherish, mine to experience._

_But together, we can offer them much more. We can offer them Knowledge, we can offer them Assistants. We can give them the world, we can give them our heart. We bow to them, we will be whatever they ask of us._

From his heart, his hands slide down the sides of his chest, fingers playing coyly at his peaked nipples and the bars that lie there. They tease at the hot metal, pulling and rolling, another little nudge toward the edge. He could do this for hours, for days, for weeks. Teasing himself, edging himself. Over and over. 

_Jon is prepared to fight him. Prepared to spear him with words. Words of anger, words of heartbreak. He needs to be the Elias that Jon knows, that Jon loves. He needs to be the man in the sharp suit, mouth cocked in a smirk, eyes wide and greedy._

_He doesn’t need to be this writhing mess of man on the floor, lost in his own hands and words, body thrumming with Jon’s power. He doesn’t want Jon to see him like this, because like this, he knows Jon won’t know what to do._

_That’s the last thing he wants._

_It wants to be there, standing proud and tall. It wants to be with it’s arms open wide, properly introducing itself, telling The Archivist about what it is, how it has yearned for them for decades upon decades. It wants to look The Archivist in the eye and fall apart under its gaze._

_It doesn't want to be seen as weak, as subpar. It doesn’t want to be seen as giving in to its base desires. It needs to be strong for it’s beloved._

_The Heart wants The Archivist to see it._

As whimpers begin to fill the chilled air, Elias reluctantly pulls his fingers away from over sensitized skin, skimming over his ribs, counting each one and thanking them for protecting his heart. 

_Failure._

His hands quickly slide away from the bones, moving next to each other just above his pelvis, fingers toying on the edge of his waistband. He walks his fingers over the material and up his thighs.

His legs give a twitch and his knuckles brush up against his arousal. His moans echo in the tower room and he loses himself to the full body shudders that overtake him. 

His fingers dig harshly into his thighs, gripping the plush flesh there. He bites his lips and-

_Oh so soft lips._

_Fleeting kisses._

_Shy smiles._

_A hint of teeth, a slide of tongue._

_Words._

_Phrases._

_Statements._

_Fear. Tangible fear._

_Yours._

It takes minutes, several long minutes, for his body to simmer down, to stop it’s pleasured shaking. When it does, he loosens his grip and runs his fingers over the angry red marks that are present. A temporary blemish. They won’t be there come the next day. He still spends a few moments worrying over them.

He knows that Jon doesn’t care for what he looks like, but he needs to be as close to perfection as he can. Nothing less. 

He brings his hands back up his thighs, slipping his fingers around his thighs to where the hem of the material clings tight to the swell of his ass. He pauses for a moment, thinks. 

It’s too much to let go of and those fingers sneak under the fabric to slip in between firm globes and pressing against-

“Ha!”

It’s a shock to his system. It brings Elias back to the forefront, the Heart taking a backseat once more. He does lose himself to the sensation, rubbing mindlessly for a few more seconds before he pulls away, harshly panting against the gold tiles. His dazed reflection slowly blinks back at him. 

He pulls his fingers away from himself, sighing when he feels empty. He shouldn’t feel empty but he does. Too many factors to make him feel whole and he’s missing every one of them. 

He gains control for a few moments, bringing his hands back to his stomach. He pauses to breathe, to think. 

To yearn, to miss. 

_-_

_Come find me soon, my Jon. My love. My Archivist. Come home to me. Let me be your home, let me take care of you._

_I await your arrival, my Archivist. Please accept me. Let me be your Heart. Let me be yours._

_-_

As his fingers finally slip under the waistband, he sighs. 

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> To the nsfw channel on the jonelias server, this is for you. I will go back to my soft JonElias agenda now. 
> 
>   
> On twitter [@sassymordechais](https://twitter.com/sassymordechais)! Link for the JonElias server is there too if you're interested! I cry a lot about rare pairs QQ


End file.
